


Saturday with the Queens

by DMichelleWrites



Series: Ficlets [27]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: Oliver, Felicity, and William have a typical family Saturday. The youngest Queen wouldn't have it any other way.





	Saturday with the Queens

Felicity Smoak-Queen slumped against various heads of lettuces in the produce aisle. Her thumbs raced across the newest SQ Tech cellphone, typing:

“Do you think he’s done yet?”

William’s lips lifted in a tired smile, keyboard clicks followed with a whoosh. “I hope so.” He added quickly, “You know, Dad can take FOREVER just to make sure everything’s organic.”

“Ugh,” His step-mother groaned aloud.

Oliver chimed, “Heard that, Honey.”

“Are we through?” His family complained in unison as if they were in for a long road trip.

He nodded, “Yes.” Oliver tossed one last bulb of garlic into their basket.

“Finally,” muttered his son, pushing the loaded cart with a squeaky wheel.

If they thought the fluorescent lights at Safeway were annoying, sunlight proved to be an even greater challenge as the trio made their way out the store after checkout. Thankfully, this was a rare weekend outing, where no paparazzi were present. Though, Dwayne and Azi, the Queen family security detail, kept an all black Chrysler Pacifica in their sights.

Cupboards slammed shut. Felicity didn’t even bother to remove her army green jacket with leather sleeves. But her flats were the first to go as she and the boys returned home for a short while. Generally, Felicity’s weekend uniform was a STAR LABS sweatshirt, old ripped acid wash jeans with countless rips, comfy Uggs, which Oliver lovingly teased his wife about every single time, and large sunglasses to conceal her under eye masks. Although William had a school carnival today, so Felicity swapped her Saturday garb for something a bit presentable.

“Oh, I gotcha. I gotcha!” Felicity cheered, slamming a Playstation controller on their couch. She was finally victorious after the third round, “Yes!”

William chuckled, “Good job.” With an eyebrow raise, he suggested, “Play again? Loser does dishes.”

“You’re on.” Felicity agreed with a handshake. Oliver bit his lip hard, preventing a burst of laughter because he knew his wife could never resist a challenge. 

Despite Mayor Handsome’s notorious reputation for tardiness, he checked his watch — the very same one Quentin gave him at his and Felicity’s wedding reception.

Oliver cleared his throat, “Buddy, you better grab your backpack, we have to leave in twenty minutes.”

“Aw,” whined his son, who insisted, “one more?”

Pointing toward the bedroom door, his father order, “Backpack, raffle tickets. Journal. Go now.”

“But…”

His step-mother interjected, “No, buts. We’ll play again before dessert.”

His blue eyes lit up along with an impish grin, thinking he’d won the bottle.

“After you finish your math homework,” amended his dad.

“Right,” the blonde hacker concurred. She repeated with an attempt at a firm parental tone, “After you finish your math homework.”

The teen grumbled under his breath, “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Oliver mimicked his tone, watching their son disappear into his room as he slid the barn door closed.

Felicity patted a spot for her husband on the sofa. He plopped her legs onto his lap, instinctively rubbing her bare feet.

“Mmm,” moaned his wife, eyes draping shut, “how’d you know?”

He stated matter-of-factly, “I know you.”

Well, that and the soles of feet were pink. She pecked his stubbly cheek. Felicity shifted further into her man’s lap. Her fingertips grazed the buttons of his Henley, fixing his collar before she nestled her head against his broad chest — right over the clothed scar, where his Bratva tattoo once remained..

“I love you.” She murmured, toying with his wedding band, “Can we just stay like this forever?”

Her husband huffed out a laugh, “I love you too, but we have to be at Will’s school in less than fifteen minutes.”

Her patent red lips sank to a frown. Despite Felicity’s sentiments, Oliver helped her off the comfort of the couch. They pulled up to Starling Middle in a big fancy car. Regardless of his Henley and jeans ensemble, Oliver was the GQ model of every dad in William’s school, a piece of meat to most single moms and some recently divorced dads as well. Felicity was equally stunning. Granted, she put in a bit more effort today. Felicity Smoak-Queen pulled out all the stops. Her sweatshirt became an army green cargo jacket with black leather sleeves. Her skinny jeans were dark denim as opposed to what her mother would call her goth “cheese pants” and her ratty Astronomy is Awesome message t-shirt was upgraded to a nice beige and blue floral blouse.

The Queens were the center of attention, drawing everyone’s eyes to them as if they were Will, Kate, and George. This fodder was absolutely absurd, but that’s what they get since every tabloid nationwide dubbed this small family Star City Royals. The extra attention was typically no surprise from single parents, and since Thea rode off into the sunset with Roy. Don’t even get Felicity started on the burrito baby bump incident after New Year’s.

“Packed house,” Felicity whistled. Through the corner of her mouth, she hoped, "Let’s go to our booth. Maybe that’ll get them to stop gawking.”

Eyes on them were one thing, but the whispers were another. William didn’t come from the world of the rich and privileged. Neither did Felicity. However, people always seemed to have their assumptions since they were thrust into the public eye. They manned the dart booth, and had to sell at least a hundred raffle tickets to raise money for new computers and library books.

“Hey, cutie.” A woman with a sultry tone sauntered over to the Queen family booth, leaning forward to display certain new and ample assets. “I didn’t think you’d be working here today.”

Felicity cut in , squeezing Oliver’s arm, “Well, we are.”

“ _Honey_.”

She dug her nails into his bicep ever so slightly. She wasn’t jealous at all. No. Felicity was protecting was hers, dammit. Chloe had no shame in flirting with married man — the tight red dressed, caked on makeup, and peekaboo pink bra simply screamed older, desperate gal.

“You know, maybe if you’re not too busy later, you can help us with the dunk tank?”

What she wouldn’t give for Kara’s laser vision right now. Felicity’s blood boiled, but she hadn’t said another word. Otherwise, they’d be far too adult for this preteen crowd.

“I’m actually...”

She purred, “C’mon, please for me.”

“Back the frack off, lady.” Felicity thought to herself.

Oliver scratched his head, “Well, I…”

_ Answer better, answer better. _

“My dad’s really busy helping people with their aim.” William supplied quickly, gesturing for him to demonstrate. “Right, dad?”

He breathed a sigh of relief, “Right, kiddo. Honey, want to give it a try?”

“Of course, my love,” replied Felicity with an extra dose of charm as she made a blatant display of her wedding ring as she and Oliver strolled to the front of the booth. Knowing how — ahem — protective — Felicity was, Oliver made the right move when he guided her hand with his and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Felicity whooped, “Well, I think we quite a team, don’t we, Mr. Queen?”

“I think we do, Mrs. Smoak-Queen.”

William rolled his eyes briefly as he knew his parents were checking off every little item in their “protective” list just as they did the groceries earlier that morning. Neither Oliver or Felicity would ever cop to it.

They met their ticket raffle quota as day dipped into night. The Queens wrapped up the evening by partaking in some games. Oliver knocked down pyramids of milk bottles with ease.

“Wow, mister.” A young girl oohed and ahed, “You have really good aim.”

“My son and I really like baseball.”

That was true, but most people in the Glades know another reason.

“Do you know the Green Arrow?”

Felicity spat out her cotton candy.

“Pfft, my old man’s not cool enough to know a real superhero.” William fibbed. “Ooh. look, Felicity, jelly beans.”

They dashed away amidst whispers. His step-mother, of course, using her always accurate math skills guessed the exact amount in the jar. Before the trio departed, William prayed no other kids heard his parents make an anonymous and very generous donation to the school. Oliver and Felicity weren’t the kind of people to throw money at things. But money wasn’t a bad thing, considering how hard they both worked in their day and night jobs.

With a rapping at the door, Felicity bid, “Lights out in ten minutes, little dude.”

“‘Kay. Love you.”

Dimples pooled in her cheeks, “Love you too.”

Felicity’s fingertips scurried over the keyboard at the desktop in their home office. Her speedy typing mingled with the crackling fire. Oliver purposefully coughed to announce his presence

“What are you doing? Sending a computer virus to Audrey?” He joked.

Her eyes grew wide with excitement, “Ooh, no! But that’s a good idea.”

“No, no,” Oliver shook his head, “No it’s not.”

“Ye of little faith, I can cover my tracks.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Oliver, Honey, you nearly wanted to snap Chris’ neck when he said I had something on my shirt.”

“Hey, he was ogling your breasts!”

She insisted, stamping her bare foot over the plush rug, “No, he was not.”

Oliver and Felicity played a game of keep away from the desktop, which resulted with his wife in a giggle fit over his shoulder, shrieking playfully, “Put me down!”

William flicked off his light with a toothy grin. Oliver and Felicity weren’t your average parents, and this day was normal by superhero family standards. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
